Payment In Kind
by Kristine Thorne
Summary: This is just a random ConnieRic idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Will probably be four or five parts long.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBC, unfortunately. 

A/N: Betaed by Iona: thank you!

Payment In Kind

Part One

Connie thought that if she didn't sleep soon, she would drop to the floor in the middle of the corridor, and sleep the sleep of the dead, onlookers be damned. The recent weather comprised of ice, snow and a great deal of rain, and had provided more RTA's than they could really cope with. As consultants of adjoining wards, she and Ric had borne the brunt of the backlash. They had operated as though on a conveyor belt, sending one case out only to receive another through the heavy theatre doors. Elliott was away at some international conference, which meant that Connie was having to manage the very different ego levels of both her registrars. On the one hand, she was trying to encourage Joseph Byrne, trying to bring him out of his shell, and on the other, she was desperately trying to stop Sam Strachan from attempting surgery that was quite blatantly beyond him. When she had been awake for over forty-eight hours without a rest, she began to think that she was operating on autopilot. If she wasn't careful, she really would make a drastic mistake if she didn't stop for some sleep. 

Walking a little sluggishly towards the nurses' station, she leaned on the desk and flipped through the ever-growing mound of patient records. "Please tell me that there aren't any more people who need operating on tonight?" She almost begged Tricia. "No, thank god," Tricia said, taking in the dark shadows under Connie's eyes. "We wouldn't have room for them if there were. You should try and get some sleep before the morning rush." "It's hardly worth going home," Connie said, lifting a hand to cover a yawn, and glancing at the clock over the ward entrance that read 3 AM. "The on call room's empty," Tricia told her, fishing the keys out from a drawer. "Catch a few hours in there." "Thank you," Connie said as she idly threw the keys from one hand to the other. "And could you tell Mr. Strachan and Mr. Byrne that I won't be requiring there services any more tonight?" "I'll tell Joseph," Tricia said with a smile. "But Sam's already sparked out in the one bed we have left." "Typical," Connie said with a rueful smile, though she couldn't really blame him. 

As she let herself into the on call room, it dawned on her just how drab and bare it was. Although it had its own bathroom, it still looked like precisely what it was, nothing but a brief rest stop for anyone who might choose to inhabit it for the night. Quickly cleaning her teeth, Connie slipped beneath the sheets of the single bed in her underwear, wanting nothing more than to sink into sleep as swiftly as possible. But her body was still humming with tension after their unbearably long stint with the sick and injured. Turning over in the bed, she couldn't get comfortable, and she certainly couldn't relax. 

Ric had been under exactly the same amount of strain as Connie in the last couple of days, and he too was aching for just a few hours rest. As he too strolled towards the on call room, hoping that it was unlocked, as he couldn't find the keys in their usual place, he remembered the one time he'd brought Sam breakfast when she'd spent a night in here, and they'd ended up christening that bed which had probably seen nothing more exciting than the occasional tired body. His thoughts still away with the fonder memories of Sam, he pushed open the door and switched on the light, only to be greeted by the sight of Connie, turning over in the bed to look up at him. 

"Connie," He said, closing the door behind him. "I didn't know you were in here." "There didn't seem any point in going home, only to come back again in a few hours," She said with a yawn. "You look exhausted," He said, perching on the side of the bed. "I don't doubt," She replied darkly. "Except that now, I can't get to sleep." "The Beauchamp brain just refuses to switch off," He said, a smile briefly touching his lips. Connie just lay there watching him, unable to form a scathing enough reply, an idea gradually forming in her mind. "Do you want to join me?" She asked, looking up at him as he sat there watching her. "Are you sure?" he asked, a little surprised by her invitation. "Of course," she said, moving over to the far side of the bed. "There's room enough for both of us in here. Well, just about, and it's not as though you haven't seen me in my underwear before, is it." "This is true," He said, getting up from the bed to hide his smile of remembrance. Oh yes, he certainly had seen her in her underwear before, and far, far less. 

When he switched off the light, before removing his own clothes and piling them haphazardly on an empty chair, Connie laughed. "Is that an attempt at false modesty, Mr. Griffin?" "Perhaps," He replied noncommittally, going into the bathroom to clean his teeth and splash his tired face with cold water. When he tentatively eased into the bed beside her, it felt natural for their arms to go around each other, though neither of them acknowledged this. He could feel her soft curves nestling up against him, her bra and knickers making the flimsiest of barriers between them. 

"You're freezing," He said, beginning to rub some warmth into her shoulders. "It's always cold in here," she said, her legs gently resting against his. "And I'm overtired, which doesn't help." After a while of contented silence, Ric said, "What's happened in the last few days to make everything so frantic?" "God knows," Said Connie tiredly. "But if it goes on any longer like this, I'll be dragging Mr. Hope back from his conference by the scruff of his neck." The only sounds they could hear were their own quiet breathing, and the occasional phone from the nearby ward. As Connie's body gradually warmed within Ric's embrace, her muscles began to relax, and her mind began to drift. It was nice, she reflected to herself, to be lying here, in a far too small bed, in the strong, comforting arms of this man. Why had Michael's arms never been quite so accommodating? It was a question that would have caught her off her guard, if she hadn't been on the edge of sleep, the two of them taking that brief respite together instead of alone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

The next thing either of them knew, was that someone had unceremoniously thrust the door open and switched on the overhead light. "Rise and shine, Mr. Griffin," Came Donna's voice sounding far too cheerful for either of their heads to stand. Then she caught sight of Connie's black, curly hair just peeping above the bedclothes. "Have you got someone in there with you, Mr. Griffin?" She asked in delighted curiosity. "Donna, you are far too cheerful for this time of the morning," Ric grumbled as he tried to focus on her. "It's seven-thirty," Donna told him. "So Lisa told me to wake you up. So, who's the lucky lady then?" But this question was more than Connie was prepared to stand. "If you want to still be in a job by the end of the day, Nurse Jackson," She said, her voice huskier but no less firm. "Think about making yourself useful and putting the kettle on." Staring at them in utter disbelief, Donna replied, "Of course, Mrs. Beauchamp," Before leaving the room, and doing a dance of victory all the way down the corridor. She was the gossip queen, and this was the juiciest piece of gossip she'd encountered in months. 

"What're you so happy about?" Lisa asked her with a smile, it making a definite change for Donna to be so at one with the world first thing in the morning. "Do you want to hear the best piece of gossip this place has heard in ages?" Donna asked as she leaned over the desk, gesturing for Chrissie and Tricia to join them. "I just went to wake Mr. Griffin up like you asked, and guess who was in there with him, wrapped around him with absolutely nothing between them?" "Probably Diane," Chrissie said dully. "She's been after him since before she married Owen." "No, not Diane," Donna told them gleefully. "Only the ice queen herself." "Connie?" Chrissie asked in utter astonishment. "That's what I said," Donna replied with a laugh. "Mrs. Beauchamp and Mr. Griffin." "Oh I knew about that," Tricia surprised them all by saying. "I saw them both heading for the on call room last night, so it stands to reason." "So why didn't you tell anyone?" Donna demanded in disgust. "Because I don't have your obsession with spreading gossip like there's no tomorrow," Tricia told her firmly. 

When Donna had gone, Ric and Connie remained still for a little while, both of them trying to force themselves into waking up. "I think we've just given Donna the treat of her life," Ric said almost gloomily. "She'll grow out of her taste for gossip one of these days," Connie replied philosophically. They had become thoroughly entwined during the night, and Connie was now lying with her head on his chest, with absolutely no desire to move. "Come on," Ric said eventually, gently disentangling himself from Connie's warm embrace. "Duty calls." 

When they both appeared on the ward a little while later, both showered but still looking very tired and somewhat dishevelled, they found that Donna had been true to her word, and left a steaming pot of coffee ready for them in the break room. They were soon joined by Sam, who having been turfed out of his bed by Tricia at six-thirty, was badly in need of a hit of caffeine. "Where did you two end up?" he asked, the smirk on his face telling both of them that he already knew. "I think you'll find that the on call room proved to be most accommodating," Connie replied, giving Ric a sly wink as she lifted the mug of coffee to her lips. 

This day seemed to be no better than the last three, with their struggle to find beds for the ever-increasing load of patients becoming more fraught with every admission. Connie might have had a few hours sleep on the previous night, but she knew that this state of affairs couldn't continue for long. She and everyone else involved, only had a certain amount of physical and mental reserves, not something they would be able to depend on indefinitely. However, there was one tiny light on the horizon, well, for her anyway. Elliott would be back from his conference tomorrow, and she was due a day off. She reflected that she would probably spend the entirety of it sleeping, or else slumped in front of the open fire, watching some mindless rubbish on the television that wouldn't require any actual concentration. When midnight was almost upon her again, she thought that enough was enough. All her patients were sleeping relatively soundly, every bed on her ward being taken, so that even Mr. Strachan would have to go home for the night. But as she stood at the desk, signing her name on endless patient records, she saw out of the corner of her eye, Ric entering the on call room. Surely he wasn't thinking of staying here for yet another night if he didn't have to? When she'd finished with the patient files, Connie walked speculatively towards the door that Ric had closed behind him, and carefully pushed it open. Ric was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear the sound of the shower in the adjoining bathroom. So, she was right, and he was staying here. But why? Thoughtfully sitting down on the end of the bed they'd shared so closely last night, she waited for him to finish, her mind going over and over his reason for staying at the hospital when he had a perfectly good home to go back to. But then it occurred to her, that perhaps he didn't have a home to go back to. She was aware of his gambling habit and his bankruptcy, most of her knowledge having been gathered via the hospital grapevine. 

When Ric switched off the shower, his thoughts turned to the bed in the next room. He was thankful that he did at least have somewhere to sleep, but he wouldn't have minded sharing it with Connie for a second or even a third time. Having a soft, warm, beautiful woman wrapped around him, that had been like nectar from the gods. Rubbing his hair dry with the towel, he strolled out into the adjoining room completely naked, with his face hidden by the towel. "Well, well," Connie said with a smirk, her eyes sweeping him from head to foot, and lingering on his semi-erect penis. "It is nice to see that not all things lose their interest at the presence of physical exhaustion." Ripping the towel from around his head, Ric stared at her slightly open-mouthed. "Connie," He said, immediately wrapping the towel around his waist. "What're you doing here?" "Don't be shy," She said with a sweetly innocent smile. "I was enjoying the view." "Yes, I'm sure you were," He said, perching on one of the empty chairs. "Ric, why are you staying here, when you could quite easily go home?" She asked, her tone quiet and serious. "I might ask you the same," he said evasively, not wanting to admit to her that he had been kicked out of his flat by a greedy landlord who wanted to sell up. "Because my house is far too big and empty to be remotely inviting," She replied without a thought, the truth of her statement surprising her. "At least you have a home to go back to," Ric told her without thinking. "What happened?" She asked, realising that she had been right about her assumption. "My landlord wanted to sell, and other landlords aren't so eager to take on a tenant who has been made bankrupt." His bleak, emotionless description of the situation hurt her, because she had all that redundant space at home, space that Michael had wanted to fill with children, but which was now empty except for her. 

"Right," She said, clearly coming to a decision. "Get dressed. You're coming home with me." "You can't do that, Connie," He said, not wanting her to feel in any way sorry for him. "Yes, I can," She told him firmly. "And for tonight at least, you don't have a choice, so clothes on, now." She shamelessly watched him as he removed the towel and reached for his clothes that were laid over the back of a chair, her eyes almost burning every inch they touched. He tried not to feel self-conscious, but the feel of her gaze on him made certain parts of him far too interested. "Are you sure about this, Connie?" he asked once he'd put his clothes back on. "Yes," She said without hesitation. "Ric, you need a decent night's sleep, and I have an abundance of spare rooms." After picking up a holdall of clothes from his office, he followed her to the car park and unlocked his car. As he followed her through the dark, empty streets, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Being beholden to anybody was bad enough, but owing Connie anything might be ten times worse. 

When they reached her house on the outskirts of Holby, he wasn't surprised to see how large and spacious it was. As he pulled up behind her in the gravel drive, he reflected that even if he only stayed here for one night, it would be a night to remember, if only for comfort and style. As they moved into the hall and Connie switched on lights, Ric realised just how warm and inviting it was, the air smelling subtly of her perfume. "Do you want a coffee or something?" She asked, moving towards the kitchen at the end of the hall. "To be honest," Ric said with a yawn. "All I want to do is sleep." "Then sleep you shall," She said with a smile, leading the way up the stairs, and opening the door of the largest guest bedroom. Ric couldn't believe his luck, thinking that he hadn't slept in such an opulent bedroom for more years than he cared to count. Fetching him a thick bath towel from the airing cupboard, Connie left it on the bed. Putting out a hand, Ric laid it on her shoulder. "Thank you for this," he said, meaning every word. "My pleasure," She told him honestly, happy to have him in her house, happy to no longer be alone in such a magnitude of space. Not long after as Ric slipped beneath the thick duvet of the spare bed, he could already feel his eyes closing as his head landed on the goose-feather pillow. He was warm, comfortable, and extremely tired, and for the first time since he'd left his flat, he didn't need to feel guilty for being where he was. Connie had invited him here, whether out of pity for him or her own sense of loneliness, he wasn't sure, but he appreciated the thought more than she would ever know. 


	3. Chapter 3

Part three

When Ric eventually woke on the Saturday morning, it was nearly ten thirty. Thank god that he also had a day off, and that Nick Jordan would be coming back from the same conference as Elliott to take over from him and Connie, and to give them some much needed rest. At first he couldn't work out where he was, but then the warmth of the bed and the softness of the duvet reminded him. He was in Connie's house, where she'd all but ordered him to come with her last night, after finding that he was yet again destined to sleep in the on call room. Stretching languidly, it occurred to him that he hadn't slept so long or so soundly in far too long. There were no neighbours disturbing his sleep with either their rows or their music, and there were no cars or lorries hurtling passed outside his window. Then something else caught his wandering attention. It was the smell of grilling bacon, an aroma sure to wake any man from any lingering slumber. Getting out of bed, he pulled on his trousers of the day before, and absent-mindedly rubbed at the stubble on his chin. 

As he opened the bedroom door and began walking down the richly carpeted stairs, the aroma of strong, fresh coffee joined that of the bacon, almost making his senses go into overload. When he entered the kitchen, Connie looked up from the paper she was reading and flashed him a tired but happy smile. "You look well rested," She commented pleasantly. "Would you like some coffee?" "Please," He replied, sitting down at the kitchen table and allowing his still sleepy eyes to begin waking up. Seeing that he wasn't quite awake, Connie didn't try to drag him into conversation, but waited until he had downed a sizeable portion of the strong, black coffee she had placed before him. "You need your caffeine like I do," She said with a smile of recognition as he instantly began to look more human. "I don't know many consultants who don't need caffeine to get them going," Ric said sardonically. "And I don't know many men who don't instantly appear at the first sign of cooking bacon." As she said this, she removed the pan from under the grill, the bacon sizzling invitingly. "I take it you would like some," She added, as though determined to prove her assertion correct. "Definitely," He replied with gratifying enthusiasm. As she began to transfer the piping hot bacon to fresh granary bread, Ric asked, "I don't suppose you possess something so mundane as tomato ketchup?" "Of course," She said, gesturing to one of the higher kitchen cupboards. "And don't look like that," She said, correctly interpreting his expression of surprise. "I think I grew up on the stuff. It was the only thing that made my mother's cooking even vaguely edible." 

When they were contentedly eating, Ric raised the subject that had been intermittently troubling him since he'd arrived here last night. "I'll try not to get under your feet for more than a couple of days," He said, before taking a bite of his sandwich. "Ric," She said, after taking a swig of her coffee. "A little thought occurred to me last night, before I fell asleep." "I'm surprised you had time for any," he put in with a smile. "Yes, so was I, but there you are. Not to put too fine a point on it, you currently have nowhere to live, and I have more space in this house than I could ever find use for. Why not share it with me?" Putting down the remainder of his sandwich and staring at her, Ric couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. But when her words had finally sunk in, he said, "I can't afford to pay you rent, Connie." "I don't want you to pay me rent," She said as though it was the most normal thing in the world to simply offer a share of her space to just anyone. "And I will not take charity from you," he told her firmly. "It isn't meant to be," She said a little exasperatedly, and then tried to explain. "Ric, I have hated this house and everything it has represented for more years than I care to contemplate. By agreeing to share it with me, you might just enable me to lay a few ghosts." Seeing that his stony expression hadn't yet abated, she added, "I'll do a deal with you: you share the cost of food and the phone bill, and I will consider that to be a perfectly satisfactory form of rent." "Let me think about it," He said noncommittally. "I wouldn't expect anything less," She said with a smile, knowing that he would give in eventually, purely because he didn't really have any other option. 

As Ric stood under the hot shower a little while later, scrubbing away all the grime of too many days and nights on duty, he did think very carefully about her offer. It had been open, sincere, and containing none of the game playing antics she was all too famous for. If he did take her up on her suggestion, it would solve at least some of his problems. Not having to pay the sort of rent he'd been paying for the last few months, would mean that he could put more aside to paying off his debts. With what they allowed him each month, he could easily contribute to food and phone bills, and if this was really all she wanted from him, plus the thought of not being entirely alone in this rambling old pile, then it was certainly a deal he could live up to. As he shaved and cleaned his teeth, and remade the bed, he knew that simply by his actions of trying to put some order into this luxurious room, his decision had been made. When he finally reappeared downstairs, he found Connie sitting in front of an open fire going through what looked like a week's worth of post. "Connie, if your offer still stands, then I'd like to take you up on it," He said, moving into the room and standing in front of the fire. "Good," She said, briefly looking up from her Mastercard bill. "Here's to a most satisfactory arrangement," She said, lifting her half-empty coffee mug in a toast, sealing the bargain, and hopefully sealing the beginnings of a true, sincere friendship. 


End file.
